Saturday, May 21, 2011

The Sun's Not Yellow It's Chicken

Spin Magazine called Red Hook salty and wild; a vestige. There is a lot to that, but way beyond the underground artist scene. The real tenants of that neighborhood are far more interesting than a line of hipsters waiting to pay $20 to learn to play the washboard. I always felt Red Hook was a bit Emperor's New Clothes-ish. That's just me.

I used to love coming here on bike before they built the blue & yellow prison where I do time each week. But get a day off and there I go, right back to it. The new bike paths join up the Brooklyn Bridge Park to Red Hook, although it ends abruptly with no warning and you look up and there you are, nowhere. But its so nice to be able to get to nowhere so close to everywhere. Sometimes you just need to get to a quiet spot and Red Hook has a bunch of those.

And IKEA's pristine promenade is fun to sit and look out unto the big ships and stroll along the pier, look at the museum-like dry dock remnants, sit in their giant chairs.

But our destination is usually to watch the soccer matches and eat Central American food from the carts. I'm not sure if the best vendors jumped ship for the hipster flea market in Williamsburg and Fort Greene or they had to cut corners a bit but we noticed a small decline in the quality of our huaraches. Did we go to the wrong cart? I assume they've kept their positions.

The tortilla was cold, smaller and far less succulent than in previous years. In previous years we had to sort of stop talking whilst our eyes rolled back and our taste buds rejoiced in the flavors for the first 10 minutes of eating. We always had to talk about how good it was even though we'd say the same things each week. This year, we sort of felt it was no great shakes. The toppings were a little chintzy, I used to lose half on the ground with tons to spare. We washed them down with watermelon juice, which was still super refreshing, different cart.

I really hope we just got a bad batch or caught them at a bad time because it would be a big spiritual loss if suddenly their food was simply mediocre.

Watching soccer is very fun but the park is dusty with black soot I guess from the BQE? It's hotter than the devil's a-hole out there and sitting on the bleachers for any length of time gives you sunburn on the top of your head.

I do hope the food stays incredible, especially the huaraches. This burnt headed sweaty girl can't live on mouth watering pupusas alone.

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